


still with hearts beating

by babydeerharry



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, Student!Harry, anxious!harry, depressed!harry, fragile!harry, high school!au, magical!harry, normal!louis, small!Harry, teacher!Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydeerharry/pseuds/babydeerharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis meets a boy with storms in his eyes and even bigger ones in his heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys are reading my other fix, there will be a new update today or tomorrow! But check this one out, and let me know what you think! I've had this idea for a while, so let me know what you think!

Harry was sat on the fire escape of his shitty little apartment in Brooklyn, his head between his knees, his hands shaking as they clutched the end on a half-lit cigarette. He could hear his parents shouting yelling, his mother’s broken voice and his father’s angry cackle fading into the distance. 

It was happening again. There it was, that familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. He looked up, and darkness consumed him. Not emotional darkness, no; literal darkness. Dark gray clouds had taken over the sky, and there was even a slight drizzle coming down onto Harry’s thin shoulders. 

He sighed, putting out the cigarette and climbing back into his shoebox of a room. He shut the window, and took one more look outside, to the oncoming weather that he had initially caused by some stupid twist of fate he couldn’t understand.

The harshness of the storm looked much like the chaos Harry felt inside.  
\--------  
Harry sat alone on the subway that morning, scribbling into his worn leather notebook. The weather was cloudy and wet. 

When he arrived at school, he sat at the back of the classroom for homeroom, head down and navy sweater wrapped tightly around his skinny frame. He was chewing nervously on his nails, glancing out the window every few seconds at the pouring rain.  
He jumped when the door opened, and the professor Mr. Brown walked in, followed by a man in his mid-twenties. Harry barely gave the man a second thought, looking down again and waiting for the day to be over so he could just sleep, and hopefully never wake up.

“Class,” Mr. Brown said, in his usual, monotone voice. “This is Mr. Tomlinson. He’s a local university student, and he’ll be here to help some of you who are...struggling.”  
Mr. Brown looked straight at Harry when he said that, and he knew why. Harry was flunking his class, along with many others, because he just couldn’t bring himself to concentrate. He was anxious and numb and didn’t know how to handle the hurricanes inside and outside his body.  
Mr. Tomlinson just nodded at the class, and made his way to the back of the classroom to set up his desk. 

When the bell rang, Harry tried to leave the class as fast as he could. Unfortunately, Mr. Brown caught him before he could get out.  
“Mr. Styles. A word, please.”  
Harry sighed, and turned back to face Mr. Brown, and the new T.A.  
“Yes?” Harry said in a quiet voice, not making eye contact with either of them.  
“I can’t help but tell you that your performance in your classes are less than satisfactory. You need to bump your grades up to at least a C average for me to be able to pass you into senior year.” Mr. Brown said sternly.  
Harry just nodded, looking down at his trembling fingers.  
“I’ve tried contacting your parents, but I’m afraid the number I was given to reach them has been disconnected. Is there another number, or means that I can use to contact them?”  
Harry looked up panicked, and shook his head. Thunder rumbled outside.  
“Um, no, I just. I’ll let them know to call you, but, I-I don’t think-I mean, they don’t exactly-” Rain was pounding against the windows, and Harry’s eyes looked a deep gray.  
“Okay, Mr. Styles, calm down. I understand you don’t want your parents to know about your grades, but that’s why I brought in Mr. Tomlinson here. He’ll be your tutor for the next few months.”  
Harry closed his eyes for a couple seconds, taking a deep breath to calm down. The rain gradually became a drizzle. When he was calm enough, Harry allowed himself to speak.  
“O-okay. Thanks.”  
Mr. Brown just nodded at the boy. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to make plans. Tomlinson, I expect feedback at the end of the week, and you two need to meet up every day after school for Harry to get to the point he needs to be to pass the final.”  
“Sounds good.” Louis said. He turned to Harry, grinning at him. Harry blushed at the gesture and looked down awkwardly at his boot-clad feet.  
“So,” Louis said cheerfully, “Is after school Mondays through Fridays at the library okay with you? We can work for about an hour or so in the beginning, and then we can bump it up if necessary-” Louis froze, noticing how Harry looked miserable. He was looking anywhere but at Louis, his hands clenched into tight fists, his knuckles a sickly white.  
“Hey,” Louis said gently “Are you okay?”  
When Harry looked up, the first thing Louis noticed were his eyes.  
They were a unique gray color, with depth equivalent only to the ocean waves.  
“Y-yeah, yeah ‘m fine. Sorry.” The boy said quickly, looking down again. “After school sounds good, thanks.”  
With that, Harry picked up his backpack and quickly made his way out of the dusty classroom  
Louis was left confused, with the sound of raindrops dripping in the back of his mind.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are triggered by abuse, please don't read!

Harry picked at his nails nervously, waiting for Mr. Tomlinson to show up. He was sitting at a worn wooden table at the far end of the library, his books scattered in front of him, thick black reading glasses hanging off his face.  
Finally, Mr. Tomlinson showed up; he rushed into the library, glancing around while pushing a hand through his damp hair. When he caught sight of Harry, he quickly walked over to his table, dropping his bag heavily on the ground.   
“So sorry I’m late, Harry. I was at a coffee shop across campus, I thought I could make it back on time but the rain-”  
Harry stopped him there, because if anything, the rain was not Louis’ fault. Ironically, it was his own.   
“It's no problem, Mr. Tomlinson, honestly.”  
Louis sat (or plopped, rather) down onto the chair across from Harry.   
“Please, call me Louis.” He said with a grin. “So, where do we start?”  
Harry looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact.   
“Um, well my lowest grade right now is in Physics. So maybe there.”  
Louis nodded. “Oh yeah, Mr. Brown gave me a transcript with all your grades.” He said seriously, pulling out the folded piece of paper from his black briefcase.   
Harry flushed, embarrassed that Louis had seen his failing grades.   
Louis looked down the paper. “I think Physics is definitely a good place to start. Maybe maths too, by the looks of it.” He looked up, noticing Harry’s silence. He could tell the boy was embarrassed, and wanted to reassure him in some way.   
“You know, I had trouble in school, too. It was hard for me to concentrate, and it didn’t help that I couldn’t seem to keep my big mouth shut.” Louis said with a chuckle. Harry looked up at him with a ghost of a smile.   
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it, okay?” Louis said, looking down at Harry kindly.  
Harry felt an unfamiliar warmth in his stomach at the action. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, and even though it wasn’t a big deal, it felt nice.   
“Thanks.” Harry replied, looking back down at his books. Louis smiled.   
“So,” he said “Let’s get started then.”  
*****  
Harry had been seeing Louis every day after school for a week. Though there were no drastic changes in his performance just yet, he could tell that the lessons were helping. He no longer felt completely lost sitting through his classes, and he even had some motivation to do well (something he never had before) because of Louis.   
Though things at school were changing, things at home stayed the same. Harry had to sit through his parents yelling and screaming at each other, foul words coming out of each others mouths, barely noticing his existence.   
When Harry came home that Tuesday afternoon, the house reeked of booze. Harry dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes, and carefully made his way to the kitchen.  
“Mum?” he called shakily. “Dad? Is anyone home?”  
When Harry walked into the living room, he stopped in his tracks. His father was sat on the sofa, bottle of whiskey in his hand. His eyes were red, and teary.   
“She left.” he croaked “She left, she’s not coming back.”  
Harry approached him slowly.   
“Dad,” he said carefully “give me the bottle.”   
His dad shook his head vigorously, downing another mouthful, and coughing the moment the bottle left his lips.  
“Please Dad, please stop.” Harry pleaded. “You’ll hurt yourself, please, just give me the bottle.” He was right in front of him now, and Harry reached out to tug the bottle from his grip.  
His father’s reaction was something he should have expected.   
His father stood up angrily, towering over Harry’s small frame. Harry flinched, taking a couple steps back in shock.   
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do Harry.” His father said in a dangerous voice. Thunder rumbled outside.   
“Please-” Was all Harry got out, before his father swung.   
Every blow seemed to hurt more than the last. Harry whimpered weakly, trying to make the pain stop.   
“You’re. The. Fucking. Reason. She. Left. Me. You. Little. Bastard.” His father said after each blow. Harry tried to cry out, his voice failing him. When a particularly hard hit him on the cheekbone, Harry felt as though he was choking on his own breath.   
That was when it happened. The living room window suddenly shattered, seemingly by a strong wind that came from outside.   
Harry’s father whipped around.   
“What the fu-” His father was suddenly whipped back, his head hitting the floor of the apartment, and he was rendered unconscious. Instantly, the wind ceased.  
Harry slowly stood up from the ground, his head pounding, his entire body in pain.   
He was shaking, both from the trauma and the fear and shock of what had just happened. Had he just caused that to happen?   
He knew it have to have been him, things like that didn’t just happen in nature. And though this wasn’t the first time his father had gotten physical with him, it was the first time he had feared for his life because of it.  
Speaking of his father, Harry glanced down at him, wiping the blood of his own mouth with the back of his sleeve. He could see the fall and rise of his chest, so he knew he was still alive. Harry didn’t know if he was relieved, or terrified. 

Harry made his way up the staircase slowly. He locked the door to his room, and walked painfully to the bathroom, turning the faucet on in the cracked porcelain bathtub. He undressed gingerly, wincing as he moved his body, and carefully lowered himself into the tub. Then, he cried. He cried and weeped until he was choking on his tears, knees held tight against his chest, and head pressed in between them.   
Outside, the clouds were gray and flooding. The surge of rain matched the boy’s howling sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> twitter: @dragslwt

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @dragslwt  
> follow me I follow back!


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